


Pink Undertones

by Ramadiii



Series: Kinktober 2019 [5]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Comfort/Angst, Dom/sub Play, Dom/sub Undertones, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Gen, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Kinktober, Kinktober 2019, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Other, Polyamory (implied)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2019-10-07
Packaged: 2020-11-27 02:50:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20941067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ramadiii/pseuds/Ramadiii
Summary: You're horny, Brock is busy, you misunderstand, Brock sets you straight.Prompt:7. Begging





	Pink Undertones

"I'm busy, rookie." Rumlow mutters under his breath, not taking his eyes off the documents in front of him. "Go bother Jack."  
"Rollins went home hours ago." You say, closing the door to the commander's office behind you. "We're the only ones left in this part of the building."  
You purposely let that last bit of information linger between you as you move towards his desk.  
"Do you need an adult to give you a ride home?" He scoffs, not looking up from his work.  
"As if I'd get it from you."  
You can feel his frustration build as you take a handful of folders and move it out of the way to sit yourself down on the desk beside him.  
"I'm bored."  
"So go home." He's still refusing to look at you and a seed of annoyance begins to grow inside of you.  
You hate being ignored and deciding to act on your impulse you move your foot between his legs, rubbing against him until his eyes finally find their way to you.  
"Do I have your attention now?" You ask smugly, pleased beyond belief when he finally puts the documents down.  
There's a spark of arousal in the way he looks at you which is why you're so shocked when he grabs a firm hold of your ankle and shoves it away from him.  
"Go home." He orders, voice cold and impersonal and goes back to treating you like you're not there.  
The rejection hurts more than you could have imagined, clawing at your chest and you don't know why it makes your eyes water.  
"Sorry." You say, sliding off the desk, hoping you sound less emotional than you feel, your face stinging in shame as you exit the office. "Goodnight, commander."

You consider calling Jack when you're leaving the building but decide against it.  
You refuse to be a needy bitch for a second time tonight, and he'd definitely catch the tears in your voice the moment you spoke to him.  
Maybe you'd misunderstood the whole thing between you. Just because they enjoyed your warm mouth and wet pussy on occasion didn't mean your needs were a priority to either of them.  
Against your better judgement you feel used.  
You have no right to.  
You've consented every time, enjoyed yourself and spurred them on.  
It's your fault for assuming things.  
Of course Rumlow wouldn't be interested in scratching your itch, in you offering yourself to him like a common whore. He enjoyed calling you that in the bedroom but it was all just a fantasy. He didn't actually want someone who threw herself at him.  
Especially at work.  
Fuck!  
You've lost your appetite by the time you get home, and go straight to drinking. It's a work day tomorrow but you're not drinking to get drunk, just to numb.

It's a little after 1 am when a series of knocks rouses you from your sleep. You must have fallen asleep somewhere between reruns of Cake Boss. Wiping the sleep from your eyes you get off the couch. Your back cracks as you stretch on your way to the door to check the peephole.  
Fuck.  
You undo the security chain with dread building in your stomach and you squint against the light of the hallway when you open the door.  
"Commander." You greet, nerves forcing their way to the surface as you step aside to let him into the apartment. "What are you doing here?"  
"Shut up." He all but growls as he watches you close and lock the door behind him. "You don't get to talk."  
Despite yourself you feel your body complying, mouth snapping shut as you watch him take in your living space. He looks oddly malplaced among your belongings, like two parts of your world just met and they're clashing hard.  
"You really are a little whore, aren't you?" He suddenly asks and it knocks the air out of your lungs. He's using his play voice. "Throwing yourself at me at your senior officer at work, not even caring if anyone walked in."  
The urge to tell him you'd made sure no one could have walked in burns at the tip of your tongue, but you keep your mouth shut. You're not entirely sure where this is going but you know failing to follow orders is not an option so you continue doing as you've been told.  
"Had I asked you to do that?" He asks, coming to stand in front of you, the intensity in his eyes makes you shiver.  
You keep your mouth shut, doing your best to ask permission with your eyes.  
"You can answer the question."  
"No, sir. You hadn't."  
You want to touch him so badly.  
"So why did you?"  
You open your mouth, answer ready but what if it's not good enough? You close your mouth again. What does he want to hear?  
Your hesitation doesn't go unnoticed and his hand wraps around your throat, pulling you only inches from his face.  
"I asked you a question, whore." He spits and you feel tears burning behind your eyelids.  
"I-I don't know, sir." You hiccup as your eyes flicker across his face, unable to meet his hard gaze straight on.  
"Yes, you do." He says, voice still hard but he's easing his hold on you, fingers rubbing soothingly against your throat. "It's just a question, rookie."  
You take a moment to catch your breath, blinking the tears out of your eyes while Rumlow waits patiently for you to gather yourself.  
"I was horny." You say, trying to judge whether or not he was satisfied with the answer. "And I-I wanted you. Sir."  
"Aw," He reaches up to stroke your cheek and you can't stop yourself from leaning into the touch. "You're sweet."  
He's surprisingly gentle when he presses his lips against yours, and you melt against him as you answer the kiss.  
He doesn't rush or push for anything harder, and you're secretly grateful.  
The night's events have left you drained and now that the tension simmers down between you the sleepiness from before returns.  
The hand at your throat moves to your waist and he pulls you against him. Feeling small and unusually vulnerable you nestle up against him.  
"Do you still want me, rookie?" He whispers against your lips, eyes closed as if opening them would require too much energy. "Or do you want me to leave?"  
Instinctively you reach for him, pulling him as close against you as you can until it almost hurts.  
"Don't leave." His eyes are open now and a small smile graces his lips when you look up at him. "Please."  
He lets you guide him to your bedroom and he continues to kiss you as you climb onto the bed.  
He's so gentle with you that there's no way it can be called anything other than love making.  
He makes you feel like you matter as when he moves at a gentle, slow pace.  
The way he brushes the hair out of your face before leaning down to kiss you makes your heart flutter.  
The way he holds you close when you're both spent and drifting off to sleep makes you question how you could have ever doubted yourself concerning him.


End file.
